


Oasis

by Mousieta



Series: The Seduction of the Gotei 13 [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fingering, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Seireitei, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, established jushiro / kyoraku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 07:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousieta/pseuds/Mousieta
Summary: Kyoraku and Ukitake treat Kisuke to dinner to celebrate his promotion and manage to sate his thirst in more ways than one.





	Oasis

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first installment of what I hope will be an ongoing series in which this incorrigible pair (Jushiro/ Shunsui) seduce anyone and everyone they can. 
> 
> For this first iteration I'd intended it to be much more kinky but they all decided to go and be romantic on me.... ugh...

“Hey, you coming or what?” Yoruichi’s voice crashed through Kisuke’s concentration and he jerked up then winced as he felt his ink well spill out over his fingers. 

“Damn,” he said and rushed to grab a rag to sop up the black mess. 

Yoruichi came in and knelt to help him. “Sorry,” she said and he shook his head as he tossed her another rag. 

“It’s ok, you just startled me.” 

She laughed and shook her head. “I called out when I came into the house, silly.” Kisuke had heard nothing, wrapped up in his research notes, his thoughts chasing down the shadows of theories. “You didn’t hear me, did you?” she asked, but she already knew the answer. 

“Sorry.”

She used her rag to soak up the last drop then gingerly lifted it and reached for Kisuke’s rag, balling them up together then dropping them into the bin by the door. “So you gonna go get clean tabi?” she asked, waving at his bare feet. 

He looked at her confused. Why was she talking about footwear?

“Tabi - for your feet - so you can go out -” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you forget?”

“No!” He faked a laugh. “Not at all. I remembered. We’re going out!” He’d remembered nothing of the sort and Yoruichi’s face told him she’d seen right through his bullshit. He ignored that and asked, “But why would I need new Tabi?”

She gestured at the trash bin in exasperation and he looked down then gasped in horror. “Oh - oh no!” He’d thought they were rags which, now, come to think of, didn’t make a whole lot of sense. He’d forgotten he’d kicked off his tabi while he was reading. “Those were my last clean pair.”

“For goodness-” she fought really hard to not lose it at him which he appreciated greatly. Taking a deep breath she managed to get out in a relatively even tone. “So I’m going to go get you a new pair. You are going to go bathe, and clean up, so we can look nice for dinner.”

_ Oh, dinner, right.  _ Kyoraku and Ukitake had invited him to dinner, to celebrate him being named Captain of Squad 12. “Do you really think I need to bathe?” He scratched his fingers in his hair then gave them a sniff. He smelt ok, surely.

“You need a bath,” she said, emphasizing every word then yanking him towards the door for good measure. She pulled him out of his room and gave him a shove in the direction of the bath house.

Showered, freshly shaved and hair combed, he stood in his new Captain’s robe, fresh tabi on his feet and all, as Yoruichi inspected him. Her gaze was a bit piercing. 

Eyeing her warily he said, “You’re making me nervous.” He laughed awkwardly for good measure, hoping she’d catch it and ease up. He couldn’t figure out why a simple dinner merited such scrutiny. “Is this really that big a deal?” 

“No,” she muttered but her gaze was unrelenting. She stepped forward and ran her fingers through the fringe of hair falling over his eyes, tucking a stray tuft back behind his ear. He flinched as her fingers brushed his cheekbone and the skin of his ear burned once her hand moved away. 

“You ok?” she asked, her voice soft. 

The burn of his cheeks told him he was flushed bright red but he couldn’t tell her that the sensation of being touched had been, momentarily, overwhelming. He shook his head, instead and stepped away. “So are we ready?” 

“It’s as good as it’ll be,” she said, letting him off the hook. Again, he was grateful. As they walked out of Squad 12’s barracks and into the street he let himself think on his strange reaction. 

Yoruichi’s fingers had felt hot - almost burning. His heart had started thundering the second they’d made contact. He sideyed her as they walked, trying to take note of how she looked, what she was wearing, monitoring his physical responses.  _ Am I crushing on her? _

He poked at his heart as he looked at her and… nothing. With relief he mentally crossed that hypothesis out. Concentrating on the feeling of her fingers on his cheek, he focused on the sensation and the thought popped into his mind: he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched like that. With affection, care. With kindness. 

_ Living creatures require touch _ , a clinical part of his mind provided. He tried to give himself a mental shake. He was touched plenty. He was fine. The ghost of Yoruichi’s fingers burning on his cheek called him a liar. 

“Kisuukeee,” Yoruichi said and she snapped her fingers under his nose. 

He blinked and took a half step back. “Uh-”

“We’re here.” She grabbed him and began pulling him into the elegant building. 

“Fancy,” he managed before being shoved into a private room. 

Yoruichi sat at the low table and began rolling up her sleeves. She was preparing to feast. “Man, am I glad I got you out, you’ve been holed up for too long.”

Kisuke made a face and sat across from her. “I have not.” She just glared at him then picked up the small bell and gave it a ring. A woman appeared and Yoruichi ordered drinks and informed her that Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake would be joining them. 

They waited in companionable silence until the woman returned with their drinks and bowls of rice. Kisuke’s eyes nearly fell out of his head as he watched bottle after bottle of alcohol start to clutter up the table. “Uh, Yoruichi,” he said, once the woman had disappeared again, “you did say there would be food right? I mean more than just rice?”

Yoruichi took a bowl and downed a quarter in a single gulp then gave him a big grin. “Course-” she dragged the back of her hand over her lips then brought a finger up to point at him. “Now,” she said, voice stern, “listen here. Whatever happens tonight, just remember you can always say no.” Her face softened. “But I hope you don’t.”

“What in the world-”

“Just, give yourself permission to say yes.”

He looked at her in confusion. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about but-” 

Before he could finish speaking the door to their room slid open again but this time Kyoraku stepped in, wrapped in his trademark pink robe. He gave them a big grin then settled himself down beside Kisuke. “Ukitake is on his way, he had to use the facilities,” he explained and reached for one of the bowls. 

Kisuke watched with growing awe as Kyoruaku downed it in one pull. “Wooooow,” he said on an exhale. 

“Excellent,” Kyoraku declared and gave Kisuke a grin then nudged him with his elbow towards the drinks still on the table. “Get you some.”

“Not too much, though.” Ukitake’s gentle voice preceded him as he ducked into the room. “We don’t want him too far gone, tonight.” He sat down beside Yoruichi and pulled a bowl towards himself. “It wouldn’t do for him to pass out and miss the celebration.” 

Yoruichi chuckled and took another drink of her own. 

“I went ahead and added to your order, Yoruichi,” Ukitake said and she nodded. Sure enough, moments later the server appeared again, this time laden with plate after plate of food. Once their table was full the low bench along the far wall was piled up for good measure. 

“Here,” Kyoraku said, picking up a dumpling with his chopsticks. “First bite to the new Captain.” He pushed the dumpling to Kisuke’s mouth and he chomped down on it, managing to make a mess of the sauce. Yoruichi laughed and Kyoraku brought his thumb up to sweep over Kisuke’s lower lip. Kisuke blinked and startled back. 

“Sorry,” Kyoraku said, removing his thumb and not looking sorry at all. He brought his thumb up to his own mouth and cleaned off the dark brown sauce he’d taken from Kisuke. “Oh, it’s tasty!” he said and dug right into the dumplings, shoving two into his mouth. 

Ukitake laughed and helped himself to some as well. 

_ Touch starved,  _ Kisuke told himself, explaining away the nervous flutters that followed in the wake of Kyoraku’s fingers across his lips. He’d seen Kyoraku around enough to know he was very liberal when it came to touch. Shrugging off his body’s response to Kyoraku he took another dumpling. It  _ had _ been tasty. 

Dinner was delicious, delicacy after delicacy savored, drink after drink taken with gusto. Kisuke had never been able to afford something this lavish, had never even considered stepping foot in this neck of the seireitei. He lifted his bowl for another rousing cheer and met Yoruichi's gaze as he took his sip. Her face was flushed and bright but her eyes were sharp, their gaze, wicked. 

He gave her an arched brow then tipped his head all the way back, turning his sip into a gulp. Kyoraku gave him a hearty slap on his back and Ukitake gave low-voice praise to his obvious drinking ability. The slap turned into a slow, circular rub and Kisuke leaned ever so slightly into at as he swallowed the last of the alcohol. 

"I knew this one was special," Kyoraku agreed then took his own drink. 

Beaming, Kisuke turned his bowl over the center of the table, proudly displaying its emptiness. A single drop beaded on the rim, swelling full but just before it could drop, Ukitake darted out his hand, long slender finger catching it. Kisuke watched, as if hypnotized, as if Ukitake was moving in slow-motion, bringing the finger to his lips, those lips parting on an exhale as the finger slid between them, the barest pink tip of tongue showing as it flicked over his fingertip. 

"Well-" Yoruichi's voice intruded, breaking Kisuke's attention. "How does it feel to be Captain, now, Kisuke?"

Kisuke managed to babble some generic pleasantries, half distracted by the fact that Kyoruaku's hand was still on his back. Perhaps it was the alcohol but his instinctive urge to pull away felt muted - far away. He realized he was still listing a bit towards Kyoraku and tried to right himself but somehow didn't care when he was unsuccessful. 

Conversation shifted to common gossip, Ukitake dishing about a scandal amongst his washer women and one of his lieutenants, sparing no details as Yoruichi cackled with glee. Kyorkaku's hand disappeared and Kisuke mourned the loss of its steadying warmth. And it's support.

He brought his arm up and propped his elbow onto the table so he didn't have to work so hard to keep up his head. 

Really, he thought, surveying the pile of empty bottles beside the table, it was amazing he was still any shade of vertical. They'd been drinking non-stop since dinner began. Turning his full attention to the bottles, he began to count and as the tally rose, a niggling suspicion began to form in the back of his mind. He side-eyed Yoruichi, who'd noticed where he was looking and gave him a shit-eating grin. 

By all accounts none of them should even be awake right now, no matter what their capacity. Yoruichi's grin turned into a suggestive waggle of brows and a wink. She was up to something but for the life of him he could not figure out what - or why it would require watering down their alcohol. 

He startled as Kyoraku's warm hand returned, this time to settle on his thigh, under the table. Looking over he realized Kyoraku was laughing, somehow he's missed hearing about the final uproarious shenanigans of the maid and the lieutenant but it was funny enough that Kyoraku apparently needed to steady himself on Kisuke's crossed legs, else he'd topple over. 

Kisuke laughed, not knowing the joke, just reveling in the casual camaraderie and hoping Kyoraku's hand decided to stay for a while again. It felt good to be touched. 

They were down to fruits and sweet ginger tea, the scattered remains of dinner whisked away. A warm glow hummed through him from fingertips to toes. 

"Humming?" Kyoraku said in a low, rumbly voice. Kisuke grinned at him then quirked his brows in question. "You hum when you're happy?"

Kisuke paused to consider. Was he happy? He wasn't really sure. He never really worried too much about what he was feeling, it never really seemed all that important, at least not when compared to his research. But actually thinking about it, taking stock of what he felt, he knew he felt amazing, at peace - "I am content," he said with a bit of awe and wonder. 

"That's lovely," Ukitake said. He was leaning over the table, finger swirling over the rim of tea cup, his face beatific. 

"He does hum when he's happy," Yoruichi chimed in confirmation. 

"How do you know?" Kisuke teased. Yoruichi just smiled knowingly. 

She stood and stretched, stomach round and full. She looked pretty content herself, like a cat ready to laze in some sunlight. "I think this is my limit." 

"But you haven't even had any of the tea!" Kisuke said. The thought of this beautiful evening breaking up already left him feeling a bit sad. She patted the top of his head then checked herself and actually knelt, pulling him in to a warm embrace. She whispered in his ears but he couldn't make sense of her words and he pulled back to look at her in confusion. Not deigning to explain herself, she stood and gave his hair one last ruffle for good measure before slipping out of the room. 

"Don't be sad, Urahara," Ukitake said and he picked up a grape and pressed it into Kisuke's mouth. "We are still here."

Kisuke hummed as he chewed the grape then, surprised himself by opening his mouth, asking for more. Kyoraku laughed affectionately and obliged him, another sweet grape bursting in Kisuke's mouth. He took the tea that Ukitake offered and drank a sip, sweet and spice and heat commingling on his tongue.

Kyoraku threaded his fingers through Kisuke's hair and cupped the back of his head, his forehead pressing to Kisuke's temple and Kisuke laughed. There had been no joke, no words at all but he laughed and the pair joined him. 

There really weren't words after that. Ukitake and Kyoraku took turns feeding him tidbits and Kisuke took greedily, of the food, of the drink, of Kyoraku's liberal touches. 

Contented and full, Kisuke leaned back and found himself leaning against Kyoraku's chest. A small part of his mind gibbered that such a level of physicality was grossly inappropriate and tried to remember when Kyoraku could have slipped behind him. His thoughts were silenced by Kyoraku's large, strong hands rubbing at his shoulders, massaging and loosening the muscles he didn't even realize were still tense.

Ukitake unfolded and stood, a hand stretching down as an offer to Kisuke. He took it and stood - the room only spinning softly, fuzzy around the edges. Giving mental thanks to Yoruichi that it was only that much and he wasn't passed out in a black void on the floor, he managed to turn and give Kyoruaku a hand up. The effort of pulling him up swayed Kisuke on his feet but Ukitake was there to keep him up-right.

They made their way out into the street, the large moon full and bathing everything in a silver light. The hints of warmth and sweetness that passed for spring in the Soul Society danced around him and he realized he was walking with a man on either side of him. His arm had been taken to wrap in Ukitake's and Kyoraku's ever steadying hand had returned to its home on the small of his back. This all felt so nice.

"Does it now?" Ukitake asked, voice teasing and warm and Kisuke realized he'd spoken aloud.

He nodded. "It was scary being made captain," he heard himself admit and their voices responded in harmony, sounds of understanding and commiseration.

Their pace was slow, the bluntest edge of inebriation ebbing away with every step, chased by the brisk air and the warmth emanating from either side of him.

They passed squad barracks and closed shop stalls, sparsely populated squares and the over-full bars that burst with sound and laughter and song. Kyoraku hummed a tune that had flitted by them in fragments and Ukitake half sang, half whispered the words.

Kisuke found himself joining in on the chorus, voice quiet and shy but he could feel both men smiling on either side of him. A bounce joined their step and they sang until they paused at the entrance to squad 12.

"Urahara," Kyoraku said and he turned to face Kisuke. "We are here."

Kisuke looked at the doors behind which were his rooms, his home, and found he didn't want to go. Looking up, he caught Ukitake's eyes. Ever so slowly Ukitake lowered his head, giving Kisuke every chance to back away but instead he stepped forward, raising his chin and pressing his lips up against Ukitake's mouth. He'd been imagining doing it all night in guilty, drunken snatches and now -

Ukitake was soft, so soft, and silkier than he'd imagined. Shocked, he pulled back with a gasp. "I'm sorry - shit - I don't know what I was thinking. It was the night and the moon and-" he broke off to turn his apology to Kyoraku, mortified that he'd destroyed the evening. But Kyoraku didn't look at him in anger.

Kyoraku's eyes sparkled in the moonlight, full of laughter and lust. He took a step forward and, hands up to cup Kisuke's face, he took a kiss of his own, overwhelming, passionate, he consumed Kisuke, leaving him breathless. As quickly as it had begun, it was over and Kyoraku retreated a step.

Kisuke looked from Ukitake back to Kyoraku, confused.

"This is an offer, Urahara," Ukitake said. "But we do not pressure or take the unwilling or impaired."

"An offer?" Kisuke asked but he knew their meaning as he looked at the pair, standing hand in hand. Kyoraku tall and broad, hair a wild, barely constrained mane. Ukitake beside him, hair glowing white in the moonlight, a halo rendering him a deity of beauty and grace. Both in so many ways opposite and yet both overwhelmingly desirable and there, on offer, just for him.

He could go home, crawl in to bed after a beautiful night of food and drink. Or he could go with them.

"Urahara?" Ukitake asked and Yoruichi's confusing words from earlier came back to him. They made sense now.  _ It's ok to say yes if you want.  _ He wanted. 

"Kisuke," he corrected and stepped forward, sliding back in between them.

"In that case," Ukitake said, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "Jushiro and Shunsui." At his name, Shunsui wrapped an arm around Kisuke's waist and pulled them all forward, continuing on towards the Squad 13 barracks.

Shunsui resumed his humming and Jushiro resumed singing and Kisuke walked between them, but where the mood on the way to Squad 12’s barracks had been lazy, meandering, this was something wholly different. Kisuke felt a flush spreading over his skin, radiating out from where Shunsui held him at his waist, from where Jushiro’s arm encircled his shoulders. 

He couldn’t join them in his singing as his heart had begun to race, preventing any real speech. He wasn’t even sure what it was he’d agreed to, what offer he’d taken other than that it would be both of them, with him for the night. Mind reeling, he tried to remember the last time he spent a night with anyone and came up empty. Surely it had happened before, there were dim memories of kisses and the phantom press of bodies together but he couldn’t pin them down, give face or name to his partners.

A feeling of dread washed over him in a quick wave and his breath hitched. Jushiro must have sensed it as only a moment later he shifted so that his hand could stroke up and down the back of Kisuke’s neck, soothing him with the warmth of a steady touch. Shunsui’s humming quieted and Jushiro spoke into the moonlight surrounding them. “Only joy and pleasure are allowed tonight. You have all the power here.” 

“It’s been so long,” Kisuke said, voice carried away by the breeze so quickly he barely heard himself speak.

Suddenly they paused and Shunsui pulled him in close, holding him tight, his head pressing to the juncture of Kisuke’s neck and shoulder. His fingers pulled back the collar of his robe so his lips could press, hot and wet, to Kisuke’s sensitive skin. With skill he nipped and sucked, the kisses sending bolts of lightning shooting straight through him to his cock. Kisuke gasped a sudden moan and, unbidden, his hips bucked up to rock against Shunsui. 

Then Jushiro was there, pressing a fluttering kiss to Kisuke’s cheek. “This is all we will ask of you, Kisuke.” At the sound of his name in Jushiro’s low voice he felt his knees begin to give, but Shunsui was there, hands on his waist to steady him. 

Shunsui stood and looked Kisuke in the eye, his face half hidden in stark shadows. “Your body knows even if your mind doesn’t.”

Again speechless, Kisuke nodded and let himself be pulled the final few steps into the Squad 13 barracks. 

Most of the company was either asleep or out. They passed no one on the way to the the rear of the squad’s compound, to where Jushiro’s rooms lay, separated from everything else by a wide park. Kisuke was deliberate in removing his shoes, savoring the night air in his hair as he straightened, trying to sear the angle of the shadows stretching across the walkway into his mind. Stepping up he felt the warmth from the floor spread up through him, meeting the fire already burning under his skin. 

Jushiro moved to stand in front of him and slide open the door. He pulled Kisuke into the room and spun him around, pressing his chest against Kisuke’s back and hands sliding up his arms to slip under the date-eri at Kisuke’s collar, stroking at the skin just beneath his clothing for a moment. His lips pressed against the side of Kisuke’s neck and he tilted his head giving Jushiro free reign. 

Shunsui followed them in and slowly slid the door closed behind him, but rather than join them, he watched as Jushiro dropped his hands to Kisuke’s waist and slowly walked them back to the center of the room, onto the large mat spread on the ground, big enough to sleep several men. It was so large it occupied most of the room and along two sides it met the walls. Jushiro centered them in a waterfall of moonlight that spilled in from the large southern window, illuminating half of the bed. 

Jushiro slid Kisuke’s robe off and held it out in one hand, Shunsui stepped forward to take it and hang it up on the wall. Kisuke watched as Shunsui, standing before them, pulled off his own pink kimono and placed it on the wall as well. He felt as Jushiro’s arms wrapped around him, fingers undoing the obi tied around his waist and Shunsui again mirrored them, removing his own obi, his eyes searing into Kisuke. 

He felt open, exposed, and a bit wanton. This was really happening. He leaned back so his head rested on Jushiro’s shoulder, leaving himself open to whatever Jushiro desired of him. He parted Kisuke’s top then ran his fingers up the part to trace the line of his exposed breastbone. Shunsui shrugged out of his own top, exposing defined muscle and the thick dusting of hair that covered his chest. 

Jushiro’s hands pulled down and all Kisuke’s many layers fell, pooling at his feet. His skin prickled and he shivered, exposed, the night air cool against his overheated skin.    
Delicate fingers danced over his shoulders, leaving trails of fire in their wake. They skittered down the torso that Kisuke was pleased to see was no less defined that Shunsui’s, up across his pectorals to swirl around the taught nipples. Both were caught between forefingers and thumbs and Jushiro gave a gentle pinch. 

With a cry, Kisuke arched into the touch. 

“Beautiful,” Jushiro whispered in his ear, and an embarrassed but proud flush rushed from Kisuke’s cheeks up to the tips of his ears. 

“Again?” Kisuke asked, voice hesitant, heart stuttering in panic at his boldness. But Jushiro obliged, fingers pinching again a fraction harder and moment longer. Kisuke closed his eyes and whimpered, body already aching with need. 

Lips pressed against his neck again, this time finding a delicious spot just behind his ear. A wet tongue lapped over it and Kisuke’s whimpers became a full throated moan. 

Jushiro’s hands stroked up and down his torso, from hip up to shoulders, dancing around his neck then skittering back down again, following a different trail back. He wanted to lean into the touch, revel in it, but the touch was surrounding him, overwhelming and enveloping him. There was no need to lean because Jushiro was just there, everywhere. And then Shunsui was as well, hands gently cupping his face, long fingers buried in his hair, lips feather light pressing against his.

Kisuke returned the kiss, deepening it, needing more than the gentleness they offered. Shunsui obliged, sliding his tongue past Kisuke’s lips to plunder his mouth, gentle hands growing firm, possessive. And through it all Jushiro stroked the lines of Kisuke’s body. 

Everywhere Jushiro touched, every place Shunsui pressed against, burned. His body felt alive as if it had been sleeping for centuries. In many ways it had been. He moaned into Shunsui’s mouth and he felt an answering rumble of pleasure deep in his chest. 

Greedily, Kisuke brought his own hands up to slide over the bulging rise of Shunsui’s biceps, cupping them and giving a squeeze. Shunsui tightened them in his hands and smiled into their kiss. Kisuke moved his hands to slide up Shunsui’s chest, delighting at the sensation of hard muscle, slick skin and feather soft hair. 

Kisuke broke off the kiss to look up at Shunsui and when he did Jushiro pressed in closer, sandwiching him between them as they kissed over his shoulder. Shunsui kissed Jushiro as fiercely as he had Kisuke, but they broke off after only a moment to reclaim Kisuke’s mouth.

Enraptured in one another, Jushiro slipped away from them and Kisuke ached at the coolness on his bare back but before he could express his dismay, Shunsui’s arms wrapped around him tight and he spun them slowly around. As they broke off Kisuke saw Jushiro, sitting on the bed and leaning against a wall, half shrouded in darkness. 

Shunsui knelt, in a smooth motion, at Kisuke’s feet, mouth licking slowly at the planes of his stomach, only slightly softened by their earlier meal. He brought his hands up and buried them in Shunsui’s hair, wild and curly and perfect for grabbing. Before his eyes could close and let him abandon himself to the sensation of Shunsui’s mouth working ever lower, they focused on Jushiro.

He was being watched, Kisuke realized and he burned again for a wholly different reason as he became the center, whole focus of Jushiro’s intense gaze. All his life he had tried to slip along, unseen, underestimated, dismissed. Now Jushiro watched as Shunsui pressed his mouth to the cock straining within the bindings of Kisuke’s hakam. Kisuke could call out, could beckon Jushiro over to him, end the watching, the scrutiny but, again, he surprised himself. Throwing his head back he arched his back, putting himself on display. Jushiro smiled with pleasure and began slowly unwrapping his own clothing. 

Shunsui’s mouth was warm, and there was a press on either side of his shaft, engorged and pressed up between the fabric of his hakama and his stomach. Fingers slipped into the hem and with one swift move Shunsui slid them off, leaving Kisuke completely exposed. Kisuke’s eyes met Jushiro’s and basked in lustful appreciation. A groan slipped past Jushiro’s lips and Kisuke’s cock gave an answering throb. 

As Jushiro watched, Kiskuke pressed himself, achingly hard already, past Shunsui’s parted lips. Stripped bare, bathed in moonlight, Shunsui’s mouth wrapped around his cock, his fingers buried in all that wild hair and Shunsui’s large hands pressing bruises into his hips with the strength of his grip, Kisuke began to thrust, all for Jushiro to see. Let him watch and desire. 

“Shit,” Kisuke cursed as he felt a cresting wave rush up, spurred by the electric heat of Shunsui’s mouth, teasing and sucking at his head. It was too much and it had been too long, he wasn’t going to last. 

He gripped Shunsui’s head and attempted to pull back, to break the contact, not wanting to embarrass himself by finishing too quickly. But Shunsui refused to be moved; he escalated, bringing a hand up to wrap around the base of Kisuke’s shaft, sheathing him entirely as his tongue swirled intoxicating circles around the head of his cock, cheeks hollowing as he gave powerful sucks in perfect time to each stroke of his hand.

“It’s ok,” Jushiro said and there was a moaning hitch to his voice. Looking over, Jushiro was exposed from neck to below his navel, kimono sliding off of his bare shoulders. One hand was stroking over his long, lean torso and the other slipped under the hem of his hakama as Kisuke watched. Jushiro’s breath hitched again as his hand began to stroke in quick, short motions. “It’s ok,” he repeated, and Jushiro’s fingers moved to find one of his own nipples, small and pert, and give it a tweak, “come for us.” 

Kisuke tried to close his eyes, tried to stave off the roaring wave but Shunsui gave a deep, never ending suck and he felt himself tumble over the line, body convulsing and he came and came into Shunsui’s hungry mouth. 

Shunsui gave a self-satisfied chuckle as he popped off of Kisuke’s still thick cock. One of his fingers caught a bead of come at the corner of his mouth and he brought it to his mouth so he could pressed his lips around it. Kisuke gave a shudder then began a babble of apologies. 

“Nonsense,” Shunsui said. He gave a lascivious, kiss to the over-stimulated head of Kisuke’s cock before he let his hips go. Boneless, Kisuke melted to the ground. 

“I’m sorry I ruined everything by finishing so quickly.”

“What?” Shunsui asked, “Do you think it’s over now?”

“We’re only beginning,” Jushiro promised. Shunsui gave him a smirk and Kisuke regarded them both. Shunsui bathed in light, shirtless, lips swollen and eyes wide with lust, and Jushiro, half in shadow, upper body exposed, hands no longer stroking underneath his hakama. 

Where Shunsui was taut, all solidly built muscle that leached away any fat or excess, Jushiro was slender, body delicate and less defined, all its beauty not in muscle but in the graceful, long lines of his figure. The pair of them were a visual feast and spent, he fell back on a mountain of pillows as he watched Shunsui crawl over the floor to where Jushiro reclined. 

He expected Shunsui to turn his mouth on Jushiro as he had Kisuke and was surprised when, instead, Shunsui gathered Jushiro to him, pulling his lover into his lap and wrapping large, strong arms around him. Kisuke watched as Shunsui stroked his fingers over Jushiro's cheek, their eyes locked on one another. 

_ Had he ever looked in the eyes of a lover that way? _ Kisuke wondered. For some reason he doubted it. It was too vulnerable, too raw. Shunsui and Jushiro wrapped around one another, drowning in each other's eyes, a moment too intimate and real to be shared and yet, Kisuke watched not as Outsider but as Witness. 

Shunsui's hand slipped up to tug away Jushiro’s top still half on his body, pulling down to expose a pale white shoulder. He bent to place a tender kiss on it and Jushiro curved around him, pressing an answering kiss to Shunsui's temple. Bathed in light cascading around Jushiro’s white hair so it formed a halo around the pair, it was too beautiful, too much. Eroticism sheathed in love, it pulled tight the strings of Kisuke’s heart and he closed his eyes around the aching pain, the longing. 

But Jushiro and Shunsui were not the sort to let pain endure on a night like this. 

"Kisuke," Jushiro whispered and Kisuke's eyes flew open. Shunsui had pulled back and Jushiro beckoned Kisuke with a lazy hand. A man dying on the desert floor, he crawled to his oasis. 

Kneeling before them, a hand from each reached out to him. Shunsui pulled a bit harder and Kisuke leaned into another kiss, tasting hints of himself on Shunsui’s tongue. When Shunsui broke off Jushiro gave him a tug and he bent to give another kiss, lips still wet from Shunsui. 

There was a rustle between them and, still kissing Jushiro, he felt Shunsui unfasten the bindings of Jushiro’s hakama then lift Kisuke’s hand to press it in to service, wrapping it around his exposed cock. Kisuke gave a long downward stroke, rolling the foreskin back to expose the head, already dripping wet. Kisuke moved his palm up and over it, rotating his wrist and relishing the way Jushiro shuddered against him. 

Shunsui’s hand engulfed Kisuke’s, slipping it back down to stroke Jushiro’s shaft and he set a slow, tortuous pace. Jushiro finally broke the kiss and fell back against Shunsui’s chest, eyes fluttering closed. Like a cat, he arched into their touch but was restrained by their positioning so Shunsui took a moment to slip out from under Jushiro and let him sprawl on the bed between them, then stripped off Jushiro’s pants, tossing them aside. 

Kisuke laid himself pressed up against Jushiro’s side and he watched the play of white light over the planes of Jushiro’s face and chest, both flushing red as he continued stroking, still at the slow and steady pace. Jushiro met him at every down move, thrusting up ever so slightly with his hips to fully savor every stroke. 

A hum came from behind Kisuke and, leaning back instinctively, he found himself pressed against Shunsui’s large, warm chest. Shunsui’s hand came up over them, small pot in his hand and he tipped it, drizzling oil over Kisuke’s hand and Jushiro’s cock. The friction of Kisuke’s jacking motion grew slippery and Jushiro groaned out Shunusi’s name.

Still stroking, he tilted his head back and Shunsui’s lips found his, plundering his mouth again as, pot gone, his hand enveloped Kisuke’s around Jushiro’s cock. Shunsui increased the pace incrementally and Jushiro gave a long, drawn out moan, hips writhing at the new stimulation. 

Shunsui’s body curled around Kisuke’s and he realized Shunsui had finished undressing, his cock pressing against one of the cheeks of Kisuke’s ass. They remained that way for a while, their lips locked and their hands stroking Jushiro as Shunsui rocked into him, slick cock sliding between their bodies. 

Eventually, Shunsui removed his hand and shifted back a bit, his fingers slipping up Kisuke’s forearm then jumping to his hip then down again to cup his ass with a full palm. Kisuke groaned and felt a tentative flutter of anxiety in his stomach as Shunsui’s fingertips brushed momentarily along the cleft between his cheeks. For only a moment he worried because it  _ had _ been so long since he’d been penetrated but need and hunger for it took over and he scooted back into Shunsui, body asking even as his mind sputtered at the thought. 

A gentle hand stroked his face, Jushiro drawing his attention. Looking down he felt his still recovering cock give a tentative pulse. Jushiro was gorgeous, sweat slicked, a red bloom across his cheeks and chest, a tantalizing counterpoint to the pristine white of his hair, spread upon the pillows. His eyes were dark and lust blown, his lower lip full and raw and caught between his teeth. 

“Look at me, Kisuke,” he commanded in a breathy whisper and Shunsui’s hand left Kisuke for a moment. “Let me see your face when he -” 

Kisuke gasped and arched his back as a slick finger - Shunsui’s slick finger - slid into him. Junshiro’s hand, still on his cheek centered him, kept him from closing his eyes as he felt the delicious stretch. “Yes,” Jushiro groaned, eyes still seeing deep into Kisuke’s own. The intensity brought a second stirring to Kisuke’s cock.

They lay like that for what felt like a seeming eternity. Kisuke stroking Jushiro and marveling at his restraint and control - to be able to bear it for so long, Shunsui penetrating him with a solid, steady finger. It was relentless and his body began to open up so that it was some time before his brain registered that there were two fingers. 

Inevitably, Kisuke’s need demanded more. Almost frantic he began to rock back onto Shunsui, begging for another finger, for a fuller stretch. His hand on Jushiro’s cock moved faster. He needed more friction, more touch, more of all of it. 

“Please, please,” he begged and he felt Shunsui chuckle behind him. “Please, I need - I need -” He held back, unable to finish the thought.

“Tell us,” Shunsui rumbled behind him. “Tell us what you need.” 

“Please fuck me,” he begged. The words had barely left his lips when Jushiro brushed Kisuke’s hands off his cock. At the same moment Shunsui took Kisuke by his hips and lifted him. Startled, he let himself be moved. 

He had expected Shunsui to take him, fill him with the thick cock that had been pressed against his ass but instead the pair settled him onto Jushiro’s long, slender cock, so full from the stroking, so ready for him. 

In one move he sank down. Jushiro’s fingers dug into his thighs and he thrust up with a satisfied hiss. “Perfect,” Jushiro moaned as he rocked down then thrust right back up again. Then again, filling and stretching Kisuke as he hissed out a long, “yesss.” 

With one smooth move, Jushiro thrusted and rolled them over so Kisuke was on his back, legs bent and feet on the bed.

Jushiro leaned over him, hands on either side of Kisuke’s head, hair falling in a curtain around them. He resumed thrusting and Kisuke’s hands fisted at the blankets, as he tried, in vain, to keep some hold on his sanity. But Jushiro was throbbing and pumping into him, adding a roll to the peak of every thrust that struck his prostate for only a tantalizing second, sending electricity through his veins for only a moment. 

“Slow,” Shunsui said and, obediently, Jushiro slowed his pace. Shunsui’s hands pulled Jushiro’s hair back, tossing it over his shoulder so his face was exposed. For a moment Shunsui watched them then he moved forward to swallow Kisuke’s moans. 

His hand found Kisuke’s cock, still flaccid, and began to stroke it expertly. Also obedient, it began to fill, to throb and pulse in time to Jushiro’s thrusts. 

“Fuck,” Kisuke groaned at the dual stimulation. 

“Yes,” Jushiro answered. He shifted slightly, kneeling and bringing Kisuke up with him. He continued thrusting, hands gripping Kisuke’s thighs and Shunsui’s strong hands moved to hold up Kisuke’s lower back. Kisuke’s now full cock bobbed in the air, dancing with every thrust. 

As he watched, Shunsui licked his lips then dipped his head, swallowing Kisuke again and giving a swirling suck at his head. 

Kisuke closed his eyes, abandoning himself to Jushiro and Shunsui’s skill. With a shift, Jushiro began relentlessly to hit at his prostate and Shunsui gave ever deepening and powerful sucks at his cock. Pleasure rolled through him until he was nothing else, a live wire strung between the two men stretching him to his limits. He wanted it to never end. He needed it to last for ever. He wasn’t going to last - he -

“Come, Kisuke,” Jushiro said and with a jolt, lightning flashed through him and he came and came, pulsing deep in Shunsui’s mouth. 

A second later Jushiro’s breath froze in his chest and his body stilled save for the cock still buried in Kisuke. Almost too sensitive from his own orgasm, he whimpered at the pulsing throbs as Jushiro spent himself inside Kisuke. Jushiro gave a final groan and Shunsui kissed him, sloppy and wet, with Kisuke’s come still on his lips. Jushiro relished it tongue sliding over Shunsui’s lips and into his mouth. 

A whip of shame flicked at Kisuke as he realized Shunsui was still hard. As they kissed his hand rose to stroke at Shunsui. Their combined laughter rumbled up from them. 

Shunsui’s balls were taught, unattended his cock was already so close. With only a few quick strokes he came, coming in a mess all over Kisuke’s stomach. 

Their kiss faded into gentle pecks and they turned to look down at Kisuke. 

“Good?” Jushiro asked and Kisuke could only smile. 

Shunsui reached behind him to a bowl that was now beside the bed and grabbed a cloth from the stack beside it. With reverence he wet the cloth and used it to clean Kisuke before getting another to do the same for Jushiro who watched him with bemused affection 

Finally spent, Shunsui wedged himself between Kisuke's body and his left arm, wriggling in delight as he snuggled in, pillowing his head on Kisuke's chest. 

"Brat," Jushiro said with affection, his fingers curling around a lock of Shunsui's hair. He spread the strands over Kisuke's chest then danced his fingers one last time over Kisuke's nipple. The hand moved up to caress the side of Kisuke's face and he turned into it to press a kiss on Jushiro's palm. 

Jushiro grinned and slid down to press against Kisuke's other side, head joining his on the pillow. "Good night," he whispered and for the dozenth time that night, Kisuke found himself unable to respond.

  
  
  


He came to with a warm weight pressing on his stomach and golden morning light filling the room. Looking down, he saw the cat curled up on him, eyes closed and contentedly purring away, little paws flexing then releasing.

"Yoruichi," he managed and the cat’s eyes flew open then blinked at him a few times. She looked pleased.

Ignoring the embarrassed flush on his cheeks he looked around. They were in the same room from last night but alone, just the two of them.

"You knew what they were going to do," he accused.

She blinked at him.

"You could have warned me."

She purred louder.

"You can talk, you know." He tried to glare and she nipped at his nose then jumped to the ground to give an elaborate stretch.

Sitting up, the sheet covering him slipped down, exposing him to the waist. He brought it back up and hissed at Yoruichi, "you mind?"

She sauntered ever so slowly across the room then hopped up on the window sill and disappeared.

A quick search revealed his clothes, neatly folded and his robe still on a peg. Dressed he emerged from the room to find Yoruichi waiting. Bracing himself for the stares from Squad 13, he slipped on his shoes but before he could walk across the lawn a paw caught in his robe, stopping him. Yoruichi turned and led him to a gate tucked discretely beside the building that lead out into the street behind the barracks.

"So," Yourichi said in her masculine voice, after a couple of blocks, "how was it?"

He grinned softly to himself as the memories of the night before flashed through his mind. "It was-" he broke off not sure what words could possibly encapsulate what it had been.

He absently put his hands in his pockets and, in one of them, felt a slip of paper. Pulling it out he read, in Jushiro's flowing handwriting

> Thank you for a beautiful evening.
> 
> A man should not go so long with thirst, especially one as amazing as yourself. Should you ever need to drink again, we are here for you.
> 
> Jushiro

and then below that in a bolder stroke:

> Shunsui

"Good," he said, answering Yoruichi's question, knowing it to be wholly inadequate but also knowing no words would be right. "It was perfect."

Feeling sated and at peace for the first time in as long as he could remember, he walked towards Squad 12's barracks ready to face his responsibilities.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sam - for dragging me into this mess.


End file.
